The Mammoth Book of Time Travel Romance

A. J. Menden Future Date

Surely I’m stuck in a time warp, Ella thought. That’s the only logical explanation. Time can’t be moving this slowly.

She looked across the dinner table to her companion, and he gave her a too big smile, one that showed rows of crooked, yellow teeth with a bit of salad stuck between two of them. Ella suppressed a groan of dismay. No, it was no time warp that had her in its clutches. It was only another blind date from hell.

“Soulmate, my ass,” she muttered under her breath. There was no way this man was her mystical other half, the one she should be bonded to for life.

No matter what the New-Age-y online dating website claimed.

This was the latest in a long line of dating websites and agencies Ella had visited, and it was definitely going to be the last. She had only started visiting the self-proclaimed matchmakers of the new millennium since her mother began nagging her about finding a boyfriend. As a kinder garten teacher, she didn’t meet many single men, and the few that she did didn’t interest her. That was the problem; Ella never met a man who she wanted a second date with.

This latest prospect, Bachelor Number Three from the Soulmate Agency, was definitely not getting a second date. For one thing, his table manners were not much better than any of her students, and they were five years old, not thirty-five. As soon as the salad had arrived, she knew it wasn’t going to be pretty. He had already started chewing on the ice in his drink, a habit that set her teeth on edge, and, sure enough, he was the type to smack his lips when he chewed.

Bad table manners might be something Ella could overlook in the right guy. Maybe no one had taught him any better growing up, and it was something that could be fixed with a gentle reminder. But his personality was no better than his manners.

“Don’t see how you do it every day,” he was saying as he cut into his steak, causing blood to flow out all over the plate, making her stomach turn.

“I’m sorry?” she said, trying to draw her eyes away from the gore in front of her. She liked red meat as much as the next person, but just something a little less likely to “moo” during the meal.

“Trapped in a room with twenty screaming and whining brats all day long, five days a week, with no break. You must have nerves of steel.”

“You don’t like children?”

“They’re OK as long as I don’t have to deal with them for long.”

Ella blinked. “Your profile said you were the divorced father of two.”

“Yep. My ex-wife was the one that wanted them. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids,” he rushed on to say quickly, as if he could sense her outrage and wanted to cut it off at the pass. “But I never really saw myself ever having kids. It was something she wanted and I did it for her. I see ’em every other weekend and by Sunday I’m completely stressed out and ready to drop them back at their mom’s. Don’t all of those kids drive you nuts?”

“Sometimes, but that’s true with any job,” Ella said, wondering why Serena hadn’t called her yet. She was incredibly glad she had insisted on meeting her date at the restaurant and had her own means of escape. After the date with the guy who turned out to be married and was looking for a little thrill on the side, she and her best friend had devised a method for getting her out of bad dates. Serena would call halfway through the meal. If Ella was having a good time, she would remember she accidentally left her cell phone on and turn it off. If she wasn’t, she could answer and get out of there.

So far, Ella had never accidentally left her cell phone on.

The waiter came by to check on them and Ella waved away any mention of dessert. “I’m going to have to call it an early evening,” she said with an apologetic smile to her date. “Papers to grade, you know how it is.”

“In kindergarten?” He frowned.

“They have tests and homework too,” she said gently. “Just the check, please,” she said to the waiter. “Separate.”

Her date shook his head. “Stay and at least have an after-dinner drink.”

“No, it’s a school night,” she said. “I have to get up early.”

“Well, this was a waste of time and money.” He crossed his arms across his chest and sulked, a position she saw almost daily. But not from a grown man.

“Excuse me?” She looked around for the waiter, hoping to see him rushing towards them so she could leave.

“Get dressed up; shell out money for an expensive dinner like this just to get the brush off. I’m surprised you didn’t have a friend call you with a fake emergency halfway through, like a lot of women do.”

“First dates are all about seeing whether or not you are compatible,” Ella said in the soothing voice she usually reserved for a child about to have a temper tantrum. “I’m afraid we’re just not compatible.”

“God damn waste of time.” He grimaced.

“Then I suggest you stop dating so you don’t waste any more of it,” she said as the waiter walked up with the bill. “Have a good evening.” She paid her half plus a generous tip for the waiter (Bachelor Number Three was definitely giving off non-tipper vibes) and made her escape.

Just as she stepped outside, her phone went off. With a sigh, she answered.

“Oh, my God, Ella, you’ve got to get over here! Your cat/dog/ bird/hamster died!”

“Yeah, thanks for calling,” she said. “You’re about thirty minutes too late. I’m already getting in the car and leaving him behind.”

“But Bachelor Number Three was going to be your soulmate,” Serena said with a dramatic flair. “The website said so.”

“Yeah, well, I’m done with internet dating. And agency dating. And every other dating. Just dating in general.”

“You always say that and then you always try it again. You’re an incurable romantic.”

“Or an incurable masochist.”

“Why don’t you come over? There’s an ‘I Love the 1980s’ marathon on television and a bottle of wine in my refrigerator that is just begging to be drunk.”

“That’s the point. I don’t want to get drunk, I just want to go home and soak in the bathtub in peace.”

“Your mother’s going to be calling to see how the date went and she’ll be disappointed that there aren’t going to be grandchildren in the future anytime soon.”

Ella sighed. “OK, I’m coming over. But only one glass of wine and since dining with Bachelor Number Three killed my appetite, I’m bringing over burgers.”

“My hero.”

After one too many episodes about the glories of the 1980s, and a glass of wine following an overly greasy hamburger and French fries, Ella was feeling half-sick. Especially when she saw what Serena was doing.

“I told you I’m not doing internet dating any more.”

“See, the problem is you’ve just hit the wrong websites,” Serena was saying in the enthusiastic tone she got after a few glasses of wine. “There’s plenty of fish in the sea, you just have to be fishing in the right ocean.”

“I think you’re mixing metaphors there.”

“Whatever. What about this one?” Serena clicked on a website that showed smiling, happy couples. One website looked pretty much like the other, and Ella had to think for a moment.

“Tried it. Kept getting guys who wanted to ‘hook up’.”

“What about this one?”

Another website, another group of smiling people. “Sent the guy who wanted to discuss cultural elitism all night.”

“What does that mean?”

“I have no idea.”

“There’s got to be something out there. ” Serena scrolled down. Then, with a big smile on her face, she clicked a link. “Got it.”

Ella peered over her shoulder. “Future Date? You’re right, that is something pretty out there.”

“This is just too funny; they’ve definitely latched on to a new marketing scheme.” Serena clicked on the “About” page. “Listen to this: ‘Welcome to Future Date! Do you feell ike you’ve dated all the single men in your area? What about in your time? At Future Date, we connect available, single men from the future with women from the past.’”

“What?” Ella looked closer. “They’re not serious.”

“Of course they’re not! What, did you think Soulmate Agency was being serious when they promised to connect you with your metaphysical other half? It’s a marketing ploy, a gimmick. Oh, it gets better, listen to this,” she continued, scrolling up. “‘Each match is based on compatibility — mental, physicaland biological. We run a thorough background check on each interested party to weed out any possible blood-relative connection.’”

“Thank God, because I didn’t want to chance a paradox,” Ella said sarcastically. “But how could they claim that anyway? There are possible variables for any decision. I could have married Bachelor Number Three tonight and had a great-great-great grandson who’s trolling this website as we speak in one future.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But who’s to say I didn’t in that future?” Ella pointed out.

“But in order for you to meet Mr Future Date and live happily ever after with him, you didn’t have kids with anyone other than him, so that negates the possibility that you’re his great-great-great grandmother or whatever from an alternate future. I think. Stop it. You’re making my head hurt. The real point is they do a background check on everyone, which is good, because that way you know you’re not dating a convicted sex offender or something. They just dress it up in silly sci-fi nonsense.”

“I don’t know, Serena,” Ella said. “Who would sign up for something like this?”

“Someone else who gets the joke and just wants to have fun and meet someone new. They probably just connect people out of different time zones or something. That’s the ‘future’ bit.” Serena was already clicking the “Sign Up Now!” button.

“I don’t know if I want a long-distance relationship.”

“Oh, relax. They’re not asking you to travel into the future for him. He comes to you.” Serena winked. “Now, you were born in Warren, right?”

“No, absolutely not.” Ella shook her head. “I’m not doing this. I’m not getting set up on another blind date, this one is practically guaranteed to be bad.”

“You don’t know that. ”

“It’s a website that’s set up like a bad science-fiction movie. And I’m not that into science fiction. And there’s always the possibility I’ll get someone who’s serious about it and really believes they are a time travel er. No.” She shook her head again for emphasis. “I’m not doing it.”

Serena pouted. “Fine, be that way. Don’t meet the future hunk of your dreams.”

“If you’re that into it, you do it.”

“Maybe I will.”

“And on that note, I’m going home.” Ella stood up and put her coat on. “I’ll see you at schooltomorrow.”

“When your mom call s, tell her I said hi.”

“I’ll tell her you tried to set me up with H.G. Wells.” And with that parting note, Ella shut the door behind her and stepped back out into the cold evening.

Going over to her car, she glanced down as she was putting her key into the lock and groaned. She must have run over some glass or something because her front tyre was flat. Swearing under her breath, she kicked the tyre in frustration. “The end to a perfect day.”

“Something wrong?” A voice asked from the kerb.

She turned to see a man in a heavy jacket and baseball cap standing there. She couldn’t make out the details of his face in the dark, but he didn’t seem like an axe murderer. Then again, do axe murderers ever seem like axe murderers?

“Oh, just a flat tyre,” she said, gesturing to the car. “I was going to call someone.”

“Don’t you have a spare?”

“In the trunk, but the jack always sticks. It’s OK, really. I’m just going to call someone.” She got out her cell phone to illustrate that point so he would go away.

“No, don’t do that. I’ll change it for you, no problem.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I told you, it’s no problem. Look, I know you don’t know me — I’m some random guy that just walked up on the street. So just get out the tyre and the jack and put them on the ground and then I’ll come over there and change it and you stand over here. That way I’m never too close to you.”

Ella’s face coloured. “I didn’t mean to imply I thought you were some sort of maniac.”

“You’re just being cautious. I understand. Can’t trust Good Samaritans these days. Ready?”

She did as he requested and, within a few minutes, he had the old tyre off and the new one on again.

“Thanks for this,” she said, stepping a bit closer to him. She could see a hint of smile and a glimmer of blue eyes before he ducked his head.

“Like I said, no problem. I’ll see you around.” He turned and abruptly walked off in the opposite direction, leaving her to get in the car and leave the incident behind her.

Ella had forgotten all about the evening at Serena’s by the end of the week, caught up in preparing for the kindergarten class play and the day-to-day drama that was teaching a bunch of five — and six-year-olds how to read, write and count. All thoughts of dating, let alone dating men who purported to be from the future, went completely out of her head until Serena walked up to her after dismissal one day and said, “You’re going to hate me.”

Ella finished saying goodbye to her last student and made sure the little girl made it safely on to the bus to go home for the day before turning to her friend. “What did you get me into now? It’s not the PTO carnival, is it? Did you volunteer me to run the cotton candy booth again?”

“Would I do that?”

“Yes, and I’ll come home covered in sticky glop like last time! Why can’t you volunteer me to do something easy, like the fishing game?”

“Well, it’s not cotton candy and it’s not the fishing game. It’s nothing to do with the carnivalor school at all.”

“Oh, God. ”

“Remember that dating website we were checking out?”

“You were checking it out, not me,” Ella retorted and then her face fell. “Oh, no.”

Serena nodded.

“You didn’t!”

“I did. I signed you up.”

“After I told you not to!” Ella smacked her on the arm with the clipboard she was carrying.

“Ow! I’m tell ing the principal!”

“You do that and I’ll tell him you’re impersonating me online for the purposes of dating. I won’t even get detention monitor duty.” Ella sighed. “Why’d you do that?”

“There were some pretty hot guys on that website. I was checking out some of the profiles.”

“Serena, that’s just the bait they use to hook you in. Take my name off the site right now, there’s no way I’m paying for that.”

“You don’t have to pay, it’s a free site. It’s like a social networking site, just dating.”

“With people supposedly from the future.”

“That too. But you’ve already got a bunch of potential matches and some of them have already sent you invitations to chat. There are some pretty hot ones on your list. I’m half tempted to sign up myself.”

“You should have.” Ella shook her head. “And ‘chats’?”

“Yeah, they send you a list of people you would be compatible with and then you can read their profiles. If you think they’re someone you’d like to get to know better, you can request a chat. If they accept, you can instant message each other on the website. And if they’re not interested, you can’t message them again. It’s a good system actually, so you don’t keep getting requests from losers you’re not interested in. I’ve already picked out some of the better prospects for you.”

“You’re too kind.”

Curiosity was working its way into Ella despite her many reservations. “Hot guys, huh?”

Serena nodded with a smile. “Really hot.”

“And they requested to talk to me?”

“Sure did.”

“You didn’t put up someone else’s picture on my profile or claim I’m a celebrity or something?”

“Nope. You’re a school teacher who would enjoy a quiet evening at home with a special someone, and the collected works of William Shakespeare.”

“And the future guys?”

“Actually, none of them seem to be buying into the site’s sci-fistuff, either. They’re just talking about being law professors or enjoying writing poetry. The usual dating website stuff. No one’s talking about fighting the glow-worms from planet Neptune or anything crazy like that.” Serena grinned at her. “Come on. You know you want to at least take a peek at who’s interested.”

They snuck back to Serena’s classroom and fired up her computer.

“The firewall better let me through. ah, success!” Serena crowed as she got back to the website and entered Ella’s info on the log-in page. “I set you up a separate email address so all of your Future Date emails go through there. I didn’t figure you wanted to use the school’s address for that.”

“And you figured I wouldn’t find out as fast.”

“That too. Now, I wrote down your log-in information. You know, in case you were interested.” She gave Ella an innocent smile and passed her a slip of paper. “You can access your information either through the links the website sends you in the emails or on the actual site.” She clicked a page labelled “Requests”. “And here are the guys that are interested.” She moved so Ella could sit down and scroll through.

Ella clicked through the requests, each with the picture of a smiling, handsome man next to it. If you clicked on the picture, it brought up each man’s profile page. Ella followed the links. There was a college professor, an artist, a professional athlete, a dentist, a therapist, a car salesman, a banker, a mechanic, a ranch hand, a police officer and a journalist interested in her. They all ranged in age from twenty-five to forty, single and divorced, with hometowns listed all over the country.

“A lot better fish than any usual website, huh?” Serena said, pointing out a few of her favourites. “And your profile’s been up less than a week. Their system’s still computing matches.”

“Why are all of these hot guys single? And wanting to talk to me?” Ella shook her head. “It’s got to be a scam. It’s probably to get money out of desperate women looking for love.”

“So don’t send them money. Just talk to him. Or him.” Serena pointed at two different profiles. “Or him.”

“No, if I’d talk to anyone on this crazy website, it’d be. ” Ella scrolled over and clicked on one of the profiles. “Him.” It was a picture of a man with close-cropped dark hair and serious blue eyes, with what looked like a park in the background of the photo.

Serena gave the picture a second glance. “Him? Why?”

“I like his smile. It’s honest. He’s not smirking like he knows he’s all that and he’s not trying to do the shy thing. He just. is. He didn’t take the picture at home off of a web cam or cellphone or something and he didn’t pose for the picture like a prima donna. It looks like it’s one snapped by a friend or something.” She scrolled down to read more of the profile. “He’s thirty-one, he’s a journalist, he has a pet dog named Bandit, a niece and a nephew he loves to spoil and he’s looking for a serious relationship. He also enjoys reading classic literature but isn’t above going to see the latest blockbuster movie or reading a bestselling mystery. He’s also been known to read a torrid romance or two.”

“It says ‘torrid’?”

“It says torrid.”

“He sounds perfect!” Serena looked over her shoulder. “Oh wait. No, he’s not. He’s got a major flaw.”

“What’s that, other than being on this website?”

“His name is Herman.”

Ella laughed. “So his name’s Herman, so what?”

“That sounds like a grandfather’s name, Herman. That’s so old-fashioned.”

“Maybe the name’s come back in vogue in the future,” Ella said with mirth.

“Maybe. But I can’t see you walking down the aisle in your gorgeous wedding dress carrying a bouquet of a dozen long-stemmed roses, that you hand off to me as you take his hands in your trembling ones, and then breathlessly say, ‘I, Ella, take you, Herman.’”

Ella laughed again. “Well, maybe it’s a family name.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe he has a nickname he goes by.”

“Maybe you should accept his request and find out.”

Ella looked back at the screen at the photo of a man with a smile that made her feelsafe for some reason. He just looked like a nice guy, one who called his mother every week, didn’t move too fast on a date, and was kind to animals and children.

“Maybe I should,” she said, and clicked accept before she could think twice.

Ella’s curiosity continued to get the better of her. She stayed away from the computer long enough to watch a few television programmes while she sat on her couch, eating a microwave frozen dinner. But the siren song of the computer, and whether or not the good-looking man with the nice smile had replied to her yet, made her finally dig out her laptop and fire it up. While it was loading, she noticed her hands were shaking and her stomach had butterflies.

“What is wrong with you?” she muttered, mad at herself for acting like a teenager instead of a grown woman. She went to the homepage of the website, logged in and was immediately met with a chat bar and one message.

Glad you decided to accept my request. It’s nice to meet you, Ella.

She bit her lip and typed, It’s nice to meet you, too, Herman. Or do you have a nickname you go by?

She didn’t expect an immediate reply and was surprised to see one.

No, just Herman. I know, Herman’s not a popular name, but I’m bringing it back in style!

She laughed at that. My name didn’t get popular until well after I was out of high school, so I’ve lived with an unusualname too. I don’t usually do internet chats, so I’m probably bad at it.

You’re fine, he replied. Just like making small talk anywhere else. I just finished up covering a city councilmeeting, so trust me, anything you say will be the most wildly interesting thing I’ve heard all day.

She laughed again, already starting to feel comfortable. I helped small children paint a set for a schoolplay. I think more paint ended up on the floor and on their smocks than on the set.

And what play are they doing?

Three Little Pigs. It’s a musical.

Of course it is. I wouldn’t expect anything less.

I wrote it.

Seriously? That’s neat. I was always into theatre growing up and when I went off to college, I originally wanted to write plays. Not musicals about pigs necessarily, but I wouldn’t have ruled it out either. Alas, I’ve turned my creative talents to reporting about government woes. I thought it would pay better and I wanted a steady job.

As long as there are kids, there’s going to be a need for teachers. I love what I do, but the lure of a steady job appealed to me too, I have to admit, she replied. That and having summers off.

They still do that?

She blinked. That was the first time he had worded anything that sounded remotely like he believed the future thing. Cautiously she typed, Well, I know a lot of schoolsystems have gone to year-round school, but ours hasn’t yet. Our buildings are so old, they need a lot of work done, or no one would be able to concentrate in the heat of summer.

Who can? I know I can barely pay attention to my work when it’s a nice day out. I just sit and stare out the window and watch the traffic pass by until my boss asks me what I’m working on. It’s nice to have to go out on assignment just to have an excuse to be outside instead of in an office all day.

I try to make excuses to take the kids outside, too, she typed. For nature walks. We’ve been raising tadpoles and then releasing them at the pond near the school.

Wish I had a coolteacher like you. My teachers were all stuffy old men that didn’t want to be bothered to do anything active.

They continued to chat back and forth about their respective childhood school memories and best/worst teachers until Ella Ella realized it was almost midnight.

I’ve got to get up in the morning!

Sorry. I forget not everyone is a night owll ike me.

It’s not your fault. I just lost track of time.

That’s a good thing, right?

She smiled. I think so.

Great. Because I was having a good time, too. Want to chat again tomorrow?

She took a deep breath. Did she want to? Yes. Should she? She didn’t know. This was a screwy website, and while he seemed like a normal, sane individual, you never knew who you were really talking to online. He could be some creepy old guy with no teeth for all she really knew.

Screw it. She typed, Sure. Have fun inter viewing councilmen tomorrow.

Have fun with the play. Be sure to tell me if the pigs escape the big bad wolf and live to sing another day.

As she signed off, Ella noticed something strange about Herman’s messages. All of the messages were time and date-stamped, like a lot of email messages. Hers all had the proper date.

His were all dated the next day.

“Like he’s emailing from the future,” she scoffed out loud. Shaking her head and reminding herself of different time zones, she turned off her computer.

But not the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

Ella paced back and forth outside of the restaurant nervously. “This is crazy,” she hissed into her cell phone. “What am I doing here? I don’t know this guy.”

“You’ve been online chatting with this guy every night for the past two weeks,” Serena said on the other end. “You’re having dinner, not marrying him. Talking to someone online for two weeks is knowing them enough for dinner.”

“If he is who he says he is.”

“A journalist from the future?”

“Ha, ha. He’s never actually said he was from the future, you know.”

“He probably assumes you know that, since the website advertises it.”

“Be serious! You know what I mean. He could turn out to be a sex predator or something.”

“They do background checks, remember. He’s not a sex predator. And if he turns out to be something other than who he says he is, you can just leave and never talk to him again. But if he is who he says he is and he travelled all the way from. where did he say he was from?”

“He didn’t. When he suggested meeting, I suggested meeting somewhere in between our two locations and he just said to pick the time, date, and place and he’d be there.”

“Maybe he’s homeless.”

“Homeless guys have computer access?”

“Everyone has computer access, hon.”

“Arrgh!” Ella growled in frustration. “Why am I standing outside in the cold having this ridiculous conversation with you?”

“I have no idea. Get in there and meet him already! Call me later and let me know how it goes. I want details!”

Ella disconnected, stowed her phone in her purse and took a deep breath, smoothing out an invisible wrinkle in her dress. This was it. She was finally going to meet Herman, who liked coffee but not tea, loved action movies and had never seen an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, and who agreed with her that Duke Ellington was not only the greatest jazz musician, but the greatest musician ever, period.

Ella gave her name to the maître d’ at the door, who whisked her to a table towards the back of the restaurant where a very familiar-looking man sat, looking just as nervous as she felt. “Thank God it’s actually him,” she whispered under her breath.

Seeing her approach, he smiled and stood up, revealing a tuxedo shirt, jacket and tie with jeans. Her smile quavered slightly. So he had offbeat fashion sense, so what? At least he didn’t show up for her date with food-stained clothes or cut-off jean shorts, which two of her previous dates had done.

“You’re even lovelier in person,” he said, taking her hand in his for an awkward shake, and then giving her an even more awkward kiss on the cheek. His voice was warm and comfortable, with a hint of familiarity.

“Thank you. It’s so nice to finally meet you in person,” she said, taking the seat he held out for her.

“So I’ve been dying to ask, did you solve the case of the missing lunches?” he asked as they looked over the menu.

She laughed, thinking of the student she had told him about. “Yes. Apparently he didn’t like what his mom was packing for him in the morning, so he kept ‘losing’ them at schoolin order to have hot lunch instead. He’d been throwing away the lunches in the boys’ restroom before schoolor giving them to other kids.”

“You’ve got to admire that kind of ingenuity,” he said with a dazzling smile and the two of them lapsed into easy conversation that lasted throughout the meal.

Ella was enjoying herself, enjoying the ease with which she related to him, as if he was an old friend. It was almost inconceivable that they had never met face to face until today, and even more strange to think they’d met on some kooky website, which was just what she was about to say to him until he interrupted her with a guilty look, saying, “I’ve been avoiding the subject, but I think we need to talk about the future.”

She blinked. “The future of us? We just met.”

“No. I mean, yes, we probably should talk about that too, but no, I meant the future. I need to explain to you about the website.”

“Oh, that.” She waved her hand. “I know it’s silly. My friend and I were just being crazy one night and joined up. Was it a similar thing with you too?”

“I figured as much, which is why I’ve been avoiding the subject. I don’t want to upset you, but we can’t build on a relationship when the whole truth isn’t out there.” He took a deep breath. “This is the thing. It’s true. I am from the future.”

Ella stared at him, her heart dropping into her stomach. Her worst fears were coming true. He was crazy.

“In the decade in which I was born, there was a huge overpopulation problem on Earth. The government finally had to declare a limit on births.”

So crazy. “That’s not possible,” she said gently. “The government couldn’t do that. They couldn’t take away people’s rights like that.”

“They can and they did. They were concerned the planet couldn’t sustain the amount of people being born, so families could only carry one child to term. And when given the choice, many families wanted a boy over a girl. So boys were overwhelmingly carried to term over girls.”

Even though she didn’t believe a word of this, she was horrified at the story. “Any child is a blessing, why would they care?”

He shrugged. “I’m definitely not saying it was right. Because, now, the male population outnumbers the female overwhelmingly. The birth rates have dropped dramatically because there aren’t enough women to, pardon the expression, go around. Now the governments of the world are concerned that there aren’t going to be enough workers in the future to sustain society. They’ve still kept the limit on births, but they’ve stopped all owing any scans for the sex of unborn babies so people have to take what nature gives them.”

Ella shook her head. “That is a crazy story.”

He continued. “We’ve perfected time travel. It was originally a way for the very wealthy to vacation, so long as they foll ow specific rules so as not to upset the time line, and only for a specific amount of time. See?” He showed her his watch, a complicated-looking thing that seemed to combine a cellphone, watch and computer in one and was, indeed, timing something. “It’s a lot easier to manipulate emails to go back in time than it is to send people. It was decided to set up the website as a way for men to find wives in the past.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What, like a mail-order bride?”

He looked sheepish. “I guess you could say that.”

Ella snapped up her bag, on her feet in an instant. “I knew this was a mistake. I knew it. From the moment I saw that website.”

He got up too. “Ella, wait, please!”

“Not only are you crazy enough to believe the site hype, you make up this insane, and might I add sexist, story to go along with it! Don’t try to contact me again.” She hurried past the waiters, who were trying to hide the fact that they were watching, out the door and into the parking lot.

“Wait, Ella, I can prove it!”

“Yeah, right.”

“There’s going to be a freak blizzard tonight. You’re going to be snowed in over the next couple of days. School’s going to be cancelled.”

Ella stopped short, keys out and ready to get into the car. “You can’t know that.”

“I read the article last night because I had a feeling you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Whatever. Just don’t contact me again.”

“If you decide you believe me, you contact me.”

“Don’t be expecting it.” Ella got into her car and drove away, leaving Herman behind in her rear-view mirror.

Ella woke up before her alarm clock went off, something she rarely did. Blinking, she realized it was because the light coming in from her window was extremely bright. Had she slept in? She checked the alarm clock again, but it still read 7 a.m. Feeling as if every nerve in her body was on alert, she walked over to the window and brushed aside the curtain to look out.

There was snow everywhere; catching the sunlight and reflecting it back brightly. Schoolwas definitely cancelled.

Ella was trembling. Before she had gone to bed last night, she had checked the weather report, and there had been no chance of snow whatsoever.

“There’s no way he could have known that when the television meteorologists didn’t,” she whispered. “No way.”

She hurried over to her computer, went immediately to the website and typed.

How did you do that?

As usualshe got an immediate response. It made headlines. I told you I read the article. Do you believe me now?

I believe something is going on, she replied.

What’s it going to take for you to believe me?

Take me back to your place.

Pardon me?

I want to see the future.

You can’t. That’s part of the rules. Unless you ’re permanently moving to the future, I can’t bring you here. Too much risk of you finding out what companies to invest in, becoming a multi-mill ionaire and somehow messing up the time stream.

Then I’m not going to believe you. It was some weird coincidence.

He didn’t respond for a while, and then came back with — I could take you into the past.

She stared at the screen. Surely she hadn’t read it right.

As long as we don’t visit the past during your lifetime, where you could alter something about your own life, I could take you. For an hour or so. It’s expensive enough, me travel l ing back to see you. Time travel costs really go up when you take a passenger.

Oh, of course. Stupid travel agents! she quipped, while still numb with shock.

So name a time period and we’ll go. For an hour or so.

Any time?

Any time.

Ella sighed. Why not go all out? Then I want to go swing dancing. I learned how to dance about five years ago. I want to go to the Cotton Club. But more importantly, I want to go hear Duke Ellington perform “It Don’t Mean a Thing If It Ain’t Got That Swing”.

Sounds great. Let’s go.

Right now?

You doing anything else today?

And before she knew it, Ella was standing outside in the massive amounts of snow, in a fake fur coat and slinky silk dress, shivering while people attempted to shoveltheir driveways and kids playing in the snow gave her weird looks.

She waved merrily at one of the kids giving her a questioning look and in an eye blink Herman was standing there in front of her, dressed in a suit and fedora.

She gasped and stumbled back. “How did you do that?”

He held up his wristwatch. “Time travel, remember?”

She looked around, seeing no car he could have come from. Indeed, the snow surrounding him was clear of footprints. She shivered again, and not from the cold.

“You look lovely, but you’re not going to be able to swing dance in that.”

“It was the only thing in my closet that looks remotely like something out of the 1930s. If I have to sit and listen to Duke Ellington, I’ll do that too.”

“Are you ready?” He took a matching watch out of his pocket and checked the time.

“Does it hurt?” she asked as he slipped the watch on her.

“It’s extremely cold in one sharp instant. And then you blink, and you’re there. Now, according to our guidelines, I have to tell you that you cannot say or do anything that is going to seriously impact the future. You talk with as few people as possible. Think of it as bird watching or going on safari. You watch the people interacting and try to stay out of their way.”

She nodded and he took her hand, then pressed a button on the watch. And in an eye blink, a terrible coldness settled over her.

The next thing she knew, they were standing in the back of a crowded room, the gorgeous sounds of jazz and people laughing mixing with the haze of cigarette smoke that filled the room.

“Oh, my God.” Ella looked around. Everywhere people were dressed like something out of one of her grandparents’ picture albums. “We’re in the Cotton Club.” She pushed past the crowd to get a good view of the band performing in the crowded club and gasped. “Oh, my God!” She pointed to the stage. “It’s Duke Ellington!”

Herman was smiling. “I can see that.”

“They’re playing ‘Sophisticated Lady’!”

“I can hear that.”

“Oh, my God!” She threw her arms around him and hugged him. “This is the best date I’ve ever been on!”

He laughed. “Does this mean you believe me?”

“Either this is realor I’m hallucinating with you.”

“It’s real, all right. Now — ” he held out an arm to her “ — want to dance?”

They spent the next forty-five minutes dancing to every song Ella’s dress would allow and sitting out at a table nearby for the others, enjoying the music and just basking in the presence of the band.

“Our time’s about to run out,” Herman said to her.

“Oh, no!” Ella said with dismay. “And he hasn’t played it yet.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Ella watched in awe as he skirted around the dancing couples and went up to where the band was performing. Her mouth fell open as Herman talked to the famous musician himself, pointing back to where she was sitting. He smiled, nodded, and then turned back to the band as Herman walked back to her. The first notes of her song rang out.

“How did you do that?”

“I told him I’d travelled from far away to impress a girl,” he said with a wink. “And playing this song might help my chances.”

“Chances for what?”

He didn’t say a word as he led her out on to the dance floor again. Even as they danced to the upbeat song, Ella knew one thing — she was falling for him, big time. “I’m glad you brought me here,” she said over the music.

“Me too,” he said. “I’m glad you finally believe me. Ella. I know we’re moving fast, but I have to tell you something — I’m falling in love with you.”

She felt her face flush. “I think I’m falling in love with you too.”

And then, he leaned forwards and gave her the warmest, sweetest kiss in all of time, in front of all of the patrons of the Cotton Club and Duke Ellington. They were still kissing even as the ice cold of time travel took them away in an eye blink.

They broke off the kiss shyly and took in their new surroundings. “We’re back already?” Ella asked, disappointed as she looked around to find herself in the snow once again outside her house.

“The travel lasts for only an hour, remember? I got a few bonus minutes to allow for time to come get you. It came with the package deal.”

“Naturally,” she said in shock.

“Listen, Ella,” he said. “I’m afraid I’ve got to tell you something else. Something important.”

“More important than being from the future?”

“I told you before, time travel is pretty expensive. And I’m just a journalist. We don’t get paid much, even in the future.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t afford to keep coming back to see you.”

Her heart plummeted into her stomach, and she was surprised to realize how much the loss of him would affect her. “What? So we can’t keep seeing each other any more? I thought that was the whole point of this, to find someone in the past.”

“It is and I did. I met you, Ella.” He took her hands in his. “Like I said before, I know we’re moving really fast and I know you barely know me, but I also know that there’s no other woman in all of time that I want to be with. Love at first sight might be a cliché, but I think in this case, it’s also true. I’m asking you to go to the future with me.”

“You said I couldn’t go to the future.”

“I said you couldn’t go to the future for a visit. But you could go to the future permanently.” He squeezed her hand. “With me. We wouldn’t have to get married right away; I wouldn’t ask you to do that. We can wait until you get acclimatized in the new time period.”

She was stunned at what he was asking. “I’d have to leave everything and everyone I know behind. For ever!”

“Not for ever, we could save up so you could come back for visits, like on holidays or something. And you could email them, as I said before; emails are easier to send back in time than people.”

“They’d just think I disappeared on them!”

“Tell them you’re joining the Peace Corps or something.”

She shook her head. “I don’t think I can. I don’t think I can give up everything I have and everyone I know for someone that I just met.” She met his eyes. “Herman, I think I am falling in love with you, but how do I know it will last?”

“How do you know with anyone?”

“And this is only the second time I’ve met you,” she said. “Shouldn’t you have at least three dates before you commit to something big like this?”

“Well, we’ve met three times actually.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to go on this date, so the other night I borrowed money off of my dad to do one last grand gesture. I went back to the night you signed up for the account on Future Date and met you in person.”

Her mouth fell open. “W-What?”

“I thought I’d do something romantic, like meet you with flowers after the bad date you were telling me about, the one with the guy who didn’t like kids. You never mentioned the name of the restaurant though; you only said you went to your friend Serena’s where she signed you up on the dating site. So I found her address online and met you outside of her apartment.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“You had a flat tyre.”

She gasped, staring at him in recognition. “Oh, my God! That was you!”

He nodded. “I was going to try to use that as proof of the time travel. I realized afterwards that didn’t really prove anything about time travel, only that I met you before. So—” he shrugged sheepishly “—we’ve met before.”

“I don’t think changing a tyre counts as a date,” she said with a wry smile.

“It should.” He looked at her, his eyes so hopeful. “So, will you go to the future with me?”

Ella couldn’t believe she was even considering this. She had never done a crazy thing in her life before signing on to that website. She had always been the good girland played it safe. Had anyone ever said that she’d be standing in the snow after having been on a date to see Duke Ellington in the 1930s, contemplating marrying a guy that she just met face to face a few days ago, she would have laughed.

Instead, she smiled.

“Yes,” she said. “I will.”